


More than a woman

by basaltgrrl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Ass Play, Dildos, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 09:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basaltgrrl/pseuds/basaltgrrl
Summary: A fic I would not have written were it not for Petra.  And yet it was so believable once I went there.





	More than a woman

"Have you ever put your finger in your anus?"

Sam asks the question with a completely straight face; he's not putting her on, he really wants to know. She can tell, through her own internal spluttering, that this is one of those moments that they have. When Sam seems to be completely out of left field, or from another planet. No man she's ever known would ask her that question. She is certain of it. No one else in CID or all of Manchester for that matter would even think--

"I'm sorry," Sam says. He looks like he means that, too. "I don't want to ask you to do anything--"

"Stop," she says. Takes a deep breath. The answer is no; she had never thought of putting anything in anyone's anus before she met Sam. But he does change things up, bless the man. "I didn't say I wouldn't do whatever it is, yet, did I? You can ask me, Sam. You haven't shocked me so much yet that I'm going to walk out that door." She leans forward to put her hand on his knee--they're at the kitchen table, of all places.

He grins, but it's a little uncertain. "It's just that--it might seem weird to you."

She smiles. "You seem weird to me. But you're growing on me."

"Well, I got you something. Something I'd like, I'd really like you to use on me."

She picks up her cup and takes a long sip of tea. Tea doesn't really take that long to sip, normally, but she needs processing time. What could it be? A whip? Um... Something to "use" on him. She can't figure it out. The verbs and the prepositions aren't working for her. She puts the cup down on the saucer. "What is it?" she asks, finally.

"Uh..." he says. "Just a moment." He vanishes down the hall, returns with a paper bag. "OK. It might seem weird." He pulls something out of the bag.

At first she thinks it's a bridle for a horse; there are straps, and rings and buckles. "Use on him?" she wonders, and has a brief vision of herself straddling Sam's narrow back, reins in one hand and whip in the other. But then he shakes it out and holds it differently and she sees that there's a belt, and straps to go around legs, and--

"What goes here?" she asks, reaching out to touch the metal ring.

Sam blushes. "That's--the other part of the--gift."

She raises an eyebrow. He reaches into the bag again, takes out an object and offers it to her on the flat of his hand, like a sugarcube to a horse.

It is most definitely not a sugarcube. Really there's no doubt in her mind about what it is, but she doesn't understand why Sam is offering this to her when he's got a perfectly lovely one of his own. This one is red. Pliable, she discovers when she touches it, rather like the real thing. It flares at the base into a sort of flange, and she realizes with a shock that this must fit into the large metal ring on the--

"How," she asks, not sure at all what message her tone might be communicating, "am I supposed to--are you really suggesting that--but--"

"You don't have to," Sam says quickly, putting the rubber penis back into the bag, but looking sheepish, abashed, disappointed.

"But what about Gene?" she asks then, grabbing at straws. Because of course now the seed is planted, now that she has touched the harness, she can imagine herself in it. It would be a shame not to put it on, since he went and bought it and all.

He takes a deep breath. "Just because we live together--and do other things together--doesn't mean it's all... this is for you, Annie. And for me, of course. I would love--" he swallows mid-sentence, "to see you in this. I want to be able to touch it while you're wearing it. Because it's you. Gene's Gene, and we have what we have, just as you and I do."

"But I don't understand. You like girls, you said so. Why do you want to make me into a boy?"

He starts rolling up the paper bag. "Really, you don't have to. And that's not what it's about."

She leans forward to put a hand on his arm. "Stop it, Sam. Don't--" She shakes her head, frustrated. "I'm not trying to avoid the subject. Or--or the gift. I just don't understand." The truth that she can't fully articulate is that she doesn't understand the way he's wired on some deeper level. He seems to assume things she doesn't, on a regular basis. Maybe this is one more of those.

He has relaxed a little, at least. The paper bag sits loose between his hands. He looks at the ceiling, thinking, and then back at her. "I love you so much, Annie. I really love you. I trust you not to hurt me, and I know you trust me, too. It's... I want to have that little bit more of you, that part that isn't actually yours but is a part of you." He's blushing. "I want you inside me. I want you everywhere, and every way I can have you."

Her breath catches in her throat. He's so earnest, sitting there, the vulnerability so close to the surface. She loves him so much, sometimes, that she wants to scream, laugh, fly up into the sky... but then also Sam is so unlike every man she's ever known that she thinks he's something other, not man or woman. Just Sam.

"Darling," she says softly, and leans forward to kiss him. He's flushed, sweating a little. "Let's go to the bedroom."

He shuts up when they start kissing, when she pushes him down on the bed and unbuttons his shirt. When she's straddling him, feeling him hard through layers of clothing, she remembers a question. "Why did you ask that about... where I put my fingers?"

"Just wanted to know if you had ever felt that. I thought--if you knew what it felt like you'd be more willing to--"

"To what? Let you...? Or...?"

"Yes."

"You want me to...?"

He's breathing faster now. "Yes." He closes his eyes, swallows. "Please."

She stares at his face in the dim light; he looks both like and unlike himself. His full, wet lower lip, his slim neck and smooth chest. He wants her to penetrate him. The thought makes her tingle with shock, but she can’t deny that there’s excitement there, too. She gets up, slips out of her layers of shirts and skirt and underthings. She takes the harness out of the bag; it's not hard to figure out. The leg straps and waist straps are obvious, but first she takes the rubber prick in her hand--full and yielding like the real thing, and barely hesitates before fitting it into the ring.

"Sam," she says.

He opens his eyes. They're wide at once, and then wider, staring at her, and she stands straighter and crosses her arms over her chest. He's making her feel defensive, somehow.

"Oh god," he whispers. He sits up on the bed, gestures for her to come closer. "Oh Annie..." His hand on her hip urges her closer; she yields when she realizes that he's looking at her, not at the thing strapped onto her body. He pulls her close enough to kiss, when she bends over, and then he nuzzles a stripe down her belly.

He slides off the edge of the bed and onto his knees on the floor, and he takes her rubber penis into his mouth.

She’s watching. She doesn’t know what else to do. She’s seen him suck Gene’s cock before, seen his eyes close and his cheeks hollow out. It’s always been rather erotic to her, once she got past the shock of it, and it has started to seem normal, just another instance of people touching. But how to feel about this; he’s taking the artificial prick deeper into his mouth now, one hand coming up to cup her arse, guide her into making short thrusts into him.

He whimpers around the thing, and she feels… oh, god, she feels flushed and wet for him. Sam. Her mad, strange lover, sometimes like a man from another planet entirely—his fingers are in the cleft of her arse and his other hand slides between her thighs, probing.

She breathes in short gasps. “Sam, oh, what—you—I want you—oh!” She’s coming. He’s got a finger inside her, and the other hand, the one on her arse, just probing—he’s not really in her anus but it feels—good.

He makes a choked noise around the thing—her cock—in his mouth. And he’s shuddering, too, he’s stopped sucking it, letting it go and resting his forehead against her hip.

“There’s a pair of pants for the wash,” he murmurs after a moment, after he catches his breath.

She chuckles, disbelieving. “Just like that?”

“Oh Annie, if you only knew…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but she can fill in the gap for him. If you only knew how much I wanted that. She runs a hand through his hair and marvels that there are things like this, and that she can do this and he’s brave enough to ask her.


End file.
